A Fortress on the Hill
by TolkienScribe
Summary: Taxes must be paid, but when a notable nobleman stalls paying them, Aragorn senses that something strange is afoot. Faramir and Legolas are sent to Lossarnach to find out. For Sian. Complete. Part of the Green Leaves Universe. Please read and review. :)
**A Fortress on the Hill**

 **Summary:** Taxes must be paid, but when a notable nobleman stalls paying them, Aragorn senses that something strange is afoot. Faramir and Legolas are sent to Lossarnach to find out.

 **Disclaimer:** Not one noble.

 **Rating:** T for action.

All of my stories are interconnected unless stated otherwise. But you do not need to read one to understand the other.

A little present for Sian to entertain her. :)

Enjoy!

 **~S~**

Faramir and Legolas spent most of their ride largely in silence. It was only when Lossarnach's lush fields began to roll on either side of their street did they speak.

"What do you know personally about Lord Húrin?"

"He was one of the few that my father trusted." Faramir said. He leaned back on his horse, leaving the reins free. "He is dependable. I remember the time when the supply routes leading to the border we shared with Harad was blocked by bandits. Húrin found another route to send supplies to our men. He always remained in the forefront in aiding the military."

"Then I do not like this." Legolas admitted. He passed a glance over his shoulder. "We are taking men for a show of force and if we do not handle this carefully, we may as well be bullying him for his taxes. If he is truly as esteemed as you say, then he deserves a better approach."

"That is why both of us will be the only ones speaking to him." Faramir soothed him. "Húrin is loyal to the crown and especially to the kingdom. I know him personally. This move of his does not make any sense to me. But once we reach his estate, we will know more."

While Húrin governed over a vast land of rich and fertile soil used for crops, his personal estate was large but not ridiculously so. They entered through a solid steel gate. Their horses followed the path made of yellow bricks, gardens on either side. The villa was quaint, with yellow walls and sturdy red tiles for a roof.

"He has a large family, doesn't he?" Legolas asked.

"Aye. Three sons and two daughters; all of them are very close in age. His wife was far younger than he. She gave birth to seven, three of whom never made it to infancy. She died giving birth to a daughter. It is widely rumoured that Húrin was madly in love with her. I know for certain he was inconsolable after her death." There was silence in the estate. Legolas frowned.

"Is this normal?" He questioned.

"I am not entirely sure." Faramir confessed. "It has been at least three years." The housekeeper met them as soon as they stopped and dismounted in front of the main doors. They were led inside, to the dining hall where apparently the lord just finished with his tea. Their men remained behind, but perhaps that was a mistake on their part. As soon as they stepped into the hall, they found themselves surrounded by armed men. None of them had their swords in their hands and their stances were not threatening but the message was clear.

"Careful," Faramir warned in a way of greeting. "Any movement without the consideration of its consequences will not only lead to your title stripped from you but will also leave your guards without a lord or even a kingdom to serve." Húrin rose from his chair and came to stand before them. A servant quickly removed the remains of his tea and scuttled out the door to relatively safer haven.

Húrin was a man in his late fifties, with hair and beard as black as soot and dark grey eyes. His skin was tanned and dry. His eyebrows were broad and heavy. His lips were set in a grim line. He had the build of a warrior, but the slightly rounded belly stated it was few years since he practiced with his sword.

Faramir took the lead and attempted on some pleasantries. Húrin rebuffed him on every turn. At last, the Steward ran out of patience.

"You know why we really here," Faramir said. "Húrin, you have been a good friend. What has changed now that you are stalling your part of the taxes?"

"That is none of your concern," Húrin responded coldly. Faramir's forehead creased.

"It is my concern, Húrin," Faramir persisted. While Húrin and Faramir argued, Legolas studied his surroundings. The dining hall was long and rectangular, with polished wood making the floor. Two windows the length between the ceiling and floor opened to the outside. From their structure, they possibly functioned as door as well. Between the two windows were two paintings; one of Húrin himself and the other of his late wife. She was undoubtedly very young, with freckles cheeks and laughing dimples. Her smile was charmingly simple. Then Legolas caught sight of something blue peeking from the shadows under a table. He followed it with his eyes and saw the table was pushed against the wall, under a lovely portrait of Lord Húrin's late wife. Legolas walked to it.

He did not get far. He barely took two steps and the men around Húrin drew out their swords. The naked blades gleamed bright and red in the torchlight. Faramir was outraged.

"Húrin, are you mad? You draw a sword against the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, a close friend to your King and Queen and in the company of the King's Steward!"

But Legolas was calm. He met Húrin's searching gaze squarely.

"I mean no harm," the Elf said quietly. He raised his hands, palms outward, in a gesture of peace. Húrin's thick eyebrows snapped together in a deep frown and his forehead creased. Otherwise, he said nothing. Legolas took it as an assent and continued the rest of the way. He reached the table and knelt on the floor. His hand slipped under the table until he felt soft fabric meet him. He grasped the thing and pulled it out.

It was a child's doll, dressed in a noblewoman's rich blue gown and jewellery made of gold fabric. Brown wool was sewn to the head for hair and two black beads made her eyes. A red curved ribbon made a mouth. The doll was well-loved, if the neatly mended hair was any evidence. It was reasonably old with use, but well-kept.

Legolas turned around and raised the doll up for Húrin to see. The lord looked sick. His face was ashen.

"Where are the children?" He asked. "It is nearly evening. Children are freed from their lessons by now and allowed something to entertain them. And yet I hear no laughter, no games and your maids are idle and the men are tense."

Faramir's anger disappeared and he looked at Húrin with new eyes. Legolas studied Húrin with new scrutiny. He noticed the dull colour of his skin, the permanent frown on his forehead, the dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep and redness in his eyes- did he cry?

Faramir caught on quickly. "Húrin," Faramir's voice was soothing and gentle. "Where are the children?"

Húrin gave a wild, ragged gasp and sank into his chair. He lowered his head in his hands. He said nothing but his shoulders shook violently. Legolas needed only a split second to realise the lord wept.

Faramir pulled a chair beside the lord and Legolas followed suit.

"They took them." Húrin hiccupped. "All five of them. They begged me to let them play outside on the meadow and almost drove me to the walls by their pleading. They said they had their guards and they will be safe. I knew better. I knew not to send them at twilight but I went against my better judgement." Húrin rocked back and forth in his chair, clutching his arms with his own, claw-like hands. "They did not return and when I took my men to look, the guards were slain and my children were gone." Foreboding filled the room. Húrin released one hand from the folds of his tunic and dipped in his belt. He pulled free a damaged parchment.

"Instead, I found this."

Faramir looked at the ransom and frowned. He passed it across the table to Legolas. The Elf read it and frowned as well. The ransom was large and it would wipe all the wealth Húrin had in his treasury. That was why Húrin did not pay his taxes.

Faramir and Legolas met each other's eyes and a silent agreement passed between them.

"Húrin," Faramir said. "We will find your children." Húrin looked up with watery shocked eyes.

"What?" There was desperate hope in his expression. Faramir nodded firmly.

"We will find them and we will return them to you unharmed. And those responsible will answer to the crown. We will make sure of it." Húrin took deep calming breaths. His hands still trembled when he clutched his knees.

"I think I may know where they are." Húrin said shakily.

The bandits were holed in a fortress overlooking the main traveling route. It was built on high ground, surrounded by treacherous rocks and thick waist-length grass. It was sturdy, but two of its towers were missing and one wall was nothing but ruin. The rest seemed only a proper disaster to fall like a house made of flimsily carved sticks. Legolas and Faramir crept near, using the grass as cover until they reached a cluster of stones. They hid behind one each, and peered at the crumbling fortress.

"What is this place?" Legolas asked, puzzled.

"It is famously known as 'The Old Man's Nest'." Faramir answered. "Legends say this was where the Prince of Thieves lived, back in early Third Age. Thieves were known to work alone and he was the only thief who managed to unite them. He was never captured and his appearance was never recorded. He died as an old man, or so they say."

"And the Steward of that time let him be?" Legolas questioned. Faramir shrugged.

"He was the least of my forefather's worries, I think." He said. "Stewards take politics seriously."

"So I gathered," Legolas said dryly. Faramir caught the hidden remark and laughed.

"Well, in light of an errant Elven Prince and a new King, someone has to," Faramir retorted. Flustered, Legolas opened his mouth to reply but Faramir already slid down from the stone he hid behind, crawled to the edge and dropped down to lower ground. They met with their guards waiting for them, hidden underneath a shelf of stone jutting outwards. Faramir quick led explained them in brief words what they encountered.

"No thief will reside in a place of stone without some sort of escape." Legolas decided. "It could be a hidden passageway, or an underground tunnel." He stopped and climbed up the hill and disappeared from view. They waited. He returned after a while. "There is a latch on the side of the fortress." Legolas announced. "It is bolted and shut, but I am sure we can find a way to break through it."

"Leave that to me." Faramir interrupted. "I have a plan, then. Listen."

Afterwards, when the sun sank just below the horizon and the sky turned dark for twilight, Faramir and Legolas made their way slowly to the fortress. When they reached the latch, Legolas knelt against the stone wall with a lantern at hand. Faramir pulled free his knife, hidden inside his boot and worked the lock. Legolas raised his eyebrows.

"My brother and I spent some time with renegades when my father needed supporters from some rebelling nobles." Faramir explained, still battling the lock with his dagger. "Some of them were thieves and taught us how to pick locks. They told me that every padlock has a weakness. If you move your dagger just right, you can break its mechanism without ever using proper lock picks or a key. Bandits, of course, do not know that." As if on cue, the lock's bolt sprang free. Faramir grinned. "They taught me well, apparently."

Legolas stared at him. "You are full of surprises. Why do I feel as if your father did not know of this and he would not approve?" Faramir answered with a conspiratorial grin.

"Parents should not be told of everything, in my belief." Faramir told him. He cast aside the lock and wrestled the latch open. It was heavy, wood reinforced with iron.

"And Elboron?"

"I will skewer him if he hides anything from me." Legolas shook his head wryly and lit the lantern.

"Charming," Legolas said dryly, "And utterly hypocritical." Faramir laughed and leaped down the gaping black hole. Legolas lowered the lantern after him with a rope. It lit the hidden passage. Faramir caught it. Legolas leaped inside, pulling the latch behind him shut in the process.

He landed cleanly on his feet on rough, pebbled ground. The passage smelled moist and dank. They followed the passageway in silence, until something dark darted through the light and hopped on Faramir's shoe. The Steward yelped. Legolas stifled an inappropriate laugh behind his hand.

"It was a rat," Legolas told him. Faramir glared and shook his feet, frightening the rodent away.

"I know."

"Really, Faramir! Screaming at the sight of rats."

"I hate Elves." They continued in silence. Finally Legolas spoke up.

"Imagine if the passageway beyond is blocked, then what? It will be futile and we will need a better plan-"

"I never knew you to be pessimistic."

"I never knew you to be naïve." Legolas retorted. Faramir stopped suddenly and tilted his head back. They stood at a slope that ended with another latch. They reached the end.

Faramir looked at Legolas and the Elf nodded wordlessly in support. Faramir smiled grimly and readied his sword. Legolas held his bow, an arrow already fitted into it, the bowstring relaxed. Faramir tested the latch. It was unbolted, but the hinges were most likely not oiled, so that anyone on the other side immediately found the intruders. They would have to act quickly if they needed the element of surprise. Faramir breathed in and threw open the latch.

They moved in the same synchronised rhythm like a Dwarven clock. Faramir sprang back and Legolas leaped out. His bow sang, which meant there was indeed an enemy there. His bowstring vibrated again, finding another. Faramir grabbed the edge and pulled himself up. Legolas stood in the middle of dimly lit storehouse, his bow drawn and ready. Two men lay limp in their chairs, a bag of gold between them with a pair of die. An arrow protruded from one man's chest and the other from between the man's eyes. Both were tattooed and rough looking.

"Two down," Legolas declared, lowering his weapon. Faramir looked around briefly. He found a window and peeked out.

"This opens into the courtyard." Faramir said. Legolas shook his head.

"We are not ready," he said. He gestured at the flight of stairs leading up. "We need to finish off the sentinels first." Faramir nodded and drew the curtains, hiding the dead bodies from view and barred the door. The room was full of numerous barrels, stuffed with hay. Faramir reached one and sniffed.

"Ale," he said. "It might be useful." Legolas smiled thinly, realising what he meant.

"Maybe but for now, we need to reach the portcullis." Legolas murmured.

"One problem at a time." Faramir answered. He jerked his chin at the patrolling bandit. Her back was to them. "I hope you are not at odds of taking down a woman?"

"I have learned one thing in my long years," Legolas said. "There is no difference between killers except that justice must be served." With that he leaped over the stone and in one go pulled out his knife. He wrapped one hand on her mouth to muffle her voice and with the other hand, he ended her life. He laid her down gently on the ground and closed her eyes. He beckoned at Faramir. "Come on."

They neared the wall and peered over its edge. This was progressively getting more difficult. Bandits manned every wall available, men and women alike.

"I count fifteen," Legolas murmured.

"The next kill is mine," Faramir answered. He unslung his long bow, already strung. He fitted an arrow and aimed for the nearest bandit, manning a small wall facing east, lower than the rest and invisible to his comrades. He released his bowstring. The arrow caught him between the eyes. He slumped against the wall.

"We need that one dead." Legolas meant the guard beside the portcullis.

"All in due time." Faramir grabbed Legolas and pulled him in the shadowy refuge of the waist-high wall. A man appeared on the roof of the highest tower. "We need that one dead first."

"I will take care of it." Legolas said. "I just hope none of the others suddenly decides to look up."

"One thing I learned about sentinels is that most of them rarely ever look up."

"Fair enough," Legolas pulled back his bow just as soon as the man appeared and let the arrow loose. The man was caught in his chest and fell with a cry. For a moment both of them went still and waited for any signs of suspicion. But they heard nothing. "We will have to split from here. You take left and I will take right."

"Bandits always work in large groups. We are not taking the men inside the main building into account."

"I will worry about them once I get our men inside." Legolas answered. He remained hidden as he crept towards right and then scaled down the tower. Faramir was right; sentinels rarely looked up. Legolas' prey stood with his back towards him, one hand hooked to his belt and the other lazily holding his sword. A fortress built on a wide landscape always gave the illusion of extra defence. Legolas returned his bow across his shoulder and pulled free his dagger carefully from his boot. The man did not seem to hear anything. Then Legolas leaped.

He finished off the bandit before his feet even hit the ground. He placed the dagger on the ground, brought his bow forward and shot two more guards in succession. A shout echoed through the fortress. They were discovered. Legolas searched for the man who found them. It was the guard standing by the portcullis. He was beckoning wildly at them. He pulled back his bowstring but the man fell before he even let the arrow lose. He turned his head and found Faramir standing on his far left, nearly opposite to him and with a bow at hand. Legolas grabbed the nearest ladder and slid down on it. Faramir did the same from the other side.

"We need to raise that." Faramir said, nodding at the portcullis. "Get to work."

"Why me?" Legolas demanded.

"Because you are undoubtedly stronger."

"What you mean is that you are weaker and slower in your old age," Legolas muttered. Faramir grinned at the jibe but said nothing. Legolas wrestled with the chains and slowly the portcullis began to rise. Their men flooded the courtyard, thirty men strong.

"Let's pay the main building a visit," Faramir suggested.

"An excellent idea," Legolas agreed, tying the chains to the series of knobs by the stone wall to keep the portcullis raised.

They reached the main building. Legolas pressed one hand on the door and looked behind him. All the men nodded. He pushed it open in one move and stepped back, nocking his arrow on the bowstring. The men trudged inside, and soon sounds of a battle wafted outside. Legolas and Faramir entered.

The small square room was occupied by three bandits and all of them were engaged. Faramir barked orders to his men to find the children. Legolas entered the nearest room which turned out to be a dining hall. Their men spilled inside after him. There were only four and they apparently caught them by surprise. They were cut down and Legolas moved to the next room, a kitchen, to continue the purge. The bandits here were not as well-versed with combat. They met their match when they reached the first and second floor. Faramir and Legolas reunited in the large room which perhaps served as the biggest dining hall. It was there that they found most of the bandits.

When Faramir stepped inside, he was already met with an opponent. The bandit's face was caked with mud and grime. When he snarled, two incomplete rows of yellowed and rotten teeth greeted him, accompanied by bad breath. His sleeves were rolled back and Faramir did not miss the mark of an outlaw on the inside of his wrist.

"Faithless," Faramir hissed, "Disgraced!" The man snarled in return and bounded toward him, his axe raised high above his head. Faramir sidestepped at the very last moment and buried his sword in his back. He pulled it free.

On the other side, Legolas raised his knife to parry a blow from his opponent. One of his men looked up and shouted a warning but it was too late. Something heavy collided with the back of his skull. Pain flared and black spots clouded his vision. He stumbled. Something heavy hit his back; a hammer, perhaps. He collapsed on the ground, struggling to keep his consciousness even with his fingers. He rolled on his back and blindly searched for his knife that fell when his head was struck. His fingers met nothing but dirt. He looked up and saw a blurry vision of a bandit above him, a hammer in his hands. The man stamped hard on his rib cage and Legolas flinched and groaned. The bandit grinned broadly. He was not alone, there was another man with him, and the one Legolas was fighting with. Someone barrelled right into him, forcing him off his feet. The man with the hammer fell with an arrow buried in his eye, screaming like a bull in a sacrifice. Legolas tried to turn and see who it was. It was one of Faramir's men. They struggled until the Ithilien Ranger found his hand on Legolas' knife and slit his throat. Then he ran up to the Elf.

"Alright?" The Ithilien Ranger asked. Legolas nodded, and his sight swam when he did. The throbbing gradually lessened but he was not ready to be up on his feet just yet. Something was thrust into his hands; his knife.

"Stay here." The man ordered. Legolas nodded again, feebly. Then the Ranger disappeared into the chaos. While Legolas rested, the headache slowly lessened. His body felt far less like lead than before. Faramir entered his landscape of sight, battling a woman.

Legolas stayed where he was, watching dully as Faramir fought off the outlaw. She was not a good fighter, but she fought like a wildcat. She clawed and snarled, her jagged sword biting into Faramir's unprotected arm and drawing blood. He hissed and bore down on her with renewed vigour, forcing her into defence. Legolas felt some life return to him and he pulled out his long knife the length of an arm and joined Faramir. Two opponents made all the difference. She was torn with indecision and in no time, Faramir cut her down. Legolas leaned against the wall and sighed.

"Are you alright?" Faramir asked worriedly.

"Peachy," Legolas gasped. The perky comment was lost in his breathlessness. Faramir shook his head wryly.

"You spent too long with Amrothos if you are using his ridiculous terms," Faramir informed him. "Where are you hurt?"

"Head and chest," Legolas answered. He pushed away Faramir's hands. "I am not concussed."

"Let me check just the same," Faramir said. Legolas scowled and pushed his hands away the second time.

"I am not concussed," Legolas repeated. "Believe me; I know how a concussion feels like." It was a mistake saying that. Faramir snorted and grinned.

"I am sure," Faramir quipped. "If your friends' tales are to be believed, you are very much aware of that little fact." Legolas groaned and shook his head. It was true; the pain mostly ebbed away. Instead, Faramir unlaced his tunic and pushed up his shirt. He examined Legolas' exposed torso. "No broken bones," Faramir announced. "You are only bruised."

"I could have told you that," Legolas said, pushing away Faramir's hands and sitting up properly. He righted his clothes. "Any deaths?"

"Few," Faramir said, "But the losses are in our favour. We lost none of our men but that was before. Let us see what the results are now." He helped the Elf to his feet and they went off in search of their men. As it turned out, two were injured when the bandits dropped a barrel spiked with iron nails on top of them. The wounds were fortunately not critical.

"Where is the leader?" Faramir asked. Legolas gestured at a fallen corpse.

"Dead, apparently." Faramir knelt by Legolas and inspected the body. It was tall and thin, but with enough muscle to pull heavy work. It was dressed in better armour than the rest of his men. An arrow pierced its neck and Faramir needed only to glance at it to know who it belonged to.

"You just killed the leader of bandits." Faramir accused. "I needed my questions answered." Legolas laughed.

"Next time, perhaps."

They rounded up all the prisoners that survived. Their men bound their hands and feet and lined them against the wall. Faramir and Legolas studied one outlaw and the next.

"I swear we did not hurt them," one of them babbled, grovelling at Legolas' feet when he stopped in front of him. "We just needed the money. I have a family back home."

"We took care of the children while we waited," another outlaw, a woman, spoke up. "They were fed. We'd never hurt a hair on their heads!"

"No," Legolas' voice was filled with wrath and it cracked like a whip. "But you let them believe there was more danger to your words."

"You are too soft with them, my friend," Faramir said with disgust. "They see a lord and they cower like vermin and claim that which they are not for self-preservation. You hold too much faith in their words." He knelt before one. "I know you. My men chased you down some months ago. I recognise you from their sketches. You robbed a farmer and took his daughters. You returned them, of course, but only in pieces." The man paled. Faramir looked at the woman sitting beside him. "And I know you as well. You posed as a midwife last winter and stole babes from their mothers' arms before disappearing into the night. None know what became of the children. What did you do to them?" The woman lifted her chin defiantly and kept her silence. Faramir held up a blade for her to see.

"I am not keen on harming women but I hold a different law for criminals. Your gender will play no role here. I will not hesitate, I assure you." The steel in his voice and eyes were unmistakable. She looked away.

"The religious cults required sacrifices," she said. Her accent was thick and heavy. "I sold them for a good price." Horrified, Faramir recoiled. The woman's mouth curved into a small pleased smile. Faramir and Legolas' eyes met. Legolas ordered the guards to stay vigilant and both of them went to Húrin's children in the other room.

All of them had one spark of their father or another, except for the oldest. He seemed to resemble his mother's portrait more than anyone else. They sat on a cot, huddled together. The oldest was barely thirteen, and the youngest was mostly like six. Legolas knelt before them and Faramir remained standing.

"Were any of you ill-treated?" Legolas asked. All of them nodded.

"To what extent?" Faramir asked gently. The oldest understood.

"Not to that extent," he said hastily, "but they whipped us and beat us if we tried to escape or fight."

"Did any of them help you or showed you some measure of kindness?" Faramir queried. All of them shook their heads.

"Did they say anything of importance?" Legolas asked. One of the boys nodded.

"They said they'd kill us as soon as the ransom was paid." He spoke up.

"Who did?"

"The leader."

"Really? And the others agreed?"

"They were cheering," one of the girls added quietly. "The man leading them said if father hesitated, they'd send our thumbs to him as a reminder."

"Oh, did he?" Faramir repeated dangerously. The girl did not answer but the boy nodded once and quickly. He looked at Faramir, half-afraid. As if realising the child mistook Faramir's anger for him, the Steward reached for him and tightly embraced him. His eyes met Legolas and he slightly gestured at his neck. The Elf understood.

Legolas nodded grimly. He left the room and went to the guards standing alert by the prisoners.

"Execute them all," he said. His voice was quiet so that the children did not hear him. "But do it somewhere the children will not see." They nodded. When they were done, Legolas ordered, "Hang them near the path. That shall dissuade anyone else from repeating the same mistake."

Once they were done, Legolas and Faramir looked at each other and then around them. The fortress was old and near its own destruction, but it at least had twenty more years to give.

"I am not comfortable to leave this just standing." The Steward said. "Another band of outlaws can easily make this one their home."

"I'd say you are correct." Legolas said seriously. "But it'd be a shame if someone, say an old bumbling fool found barrels of ale," Faramir glanced at him indignantly, "and accidental dropped his lantern on them. I guess this fortress needs one accident to ruin its potential. You do not need to tear the foundation apart, just burn it enough to quicken its ageing." Understanding dawned on Faramir's face. Legolas glanced at him and added in very, very serious tone. "By accident, of course. We do not want every thief, pickpocket; forger, bandit and renegade think we are after them by destroying their landmark." Faramir laughed, unable to help himself.

"You are incorrigible." Faramir told him. Legolas grinned and they set to work.

Fortunately the storehouse shared a wall with the main building. They laid out the barrels in their sides and together. Long wicks connected all of them. The more their length, the more time they had to steer clear of the fortress. When they were done, all of the barrels of the storehouse were ready.

"These are a lot of barrels," Legolas observed. "Somehow I think they were stealing from passing merchants as well to cover so many."

"Ah, well," Faramir said. "We would never know who they belong to, but I expect we could put them to good use." Legolas was amused.

"You do realise that notable traders brand their barrels, do you not?"

"I can hardly hear you sometimes."

Legolas laughed and shook his head. Faramir dropped a torch on the wicks and as soon as they caught fire, they hurried out the door and mounted their horses. They quickly placed sizeable distance between them and the fortress.

They waited. And waited. Finally Faramir turned around and faced Legolas.

"This is the last time I will follow your insufferable, insane-"

They heard a large boom. Faramir jumped and looked back. Wisps of smoke appeared in the air. The fortress wall behind the storehouse crumbled, leaving the insides visible. Legolas chuckled.

"I'd never drink from them if I knew they were that flammable," Faramir confessed, stunned. This time, Legolas laughed.

"Come, we are wasting time." The Elf said and spurred his horse to Húrin's estate.

They reached the estate near the middle of the night. The children entered the house first. It was not a surprise when they found Húrin wide awake and anxious.

Húrin wept freely and shamelessly, peppering kisses on all five of his children. His eldest, a son, tried to distance himself and be manly, but at last the child broke down and returned the hugs as easily as his father bestowed them. His two girls clung to him, one seated awkwardly on his leg and the other clutching to his sleeve and collar as if she was afraid he may disappear. The other two boys latched their arms around his neck.

They lingered behind, not wanting to intrude such a tearful reunion. Legolas gestured at Faramir and the two silently retreated to the breezy night outside through an open door of the dining hall.

"I am sure the Crown will be pleased to hear the taxes are underway." Faramir said. His eyes met with Legolas and they exchanged a smile.

"Aye," Legolas agreed. "But I think the Crown will be even happier to hear the children are returned, safe and sound."

 **END**

 **~S~**

 **Author's Note:**

It has been _ages_ since I last wrote Faramir and Legolas. This feels refreshing. A little pick-me-up for Sian after she faced some rough days previously.

Do leave a review!


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